Mentors
by Scrawling Maelstrom
Summary: Kurt's primary student, Regis, is the focus of a vicious custody battle, and suddenly the entire school is caught in the crossfire. R for language and adult situations.
1. Arrival

**Editor's Note: **This one deals with an acrimonious… no, downright EVIL divorce. Having weathered one myself (and from Regis' point of view), I know how touchy this can be. If the subject is going to be especially painful for you, you might want to think twice about reading this story.

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**Mentors, part 1**

Ororo stopped momentarily to watch Isidro as he spoke on the phone. At first the man was sitting in a chair, but then he stood up and paced with agitation. She had no idea what he was saying; his quick, rapid-fire Spanish was beyond her. He wiped his brow and forced himself to calm down. His tone and expression suggested that he was trying to calm down whoever was on the other end of the line as well.

It had been four weeks since Isidro suffered his injuries at the hands of his "former employers", and two days since he and Hank made the decision to remove the implant at the base of his skull. The bullet wounds on his chest were healing nicely, and the scars would be minimal. The implant removal was easily covered by hair, just as the implant itself had been. Soon there would be no physical trace of his slavery. The mental anguish would take far longer to heal, and if this phone call was any indication, it would take a while for his family to get over it as well.

Kurt joined her as she stood there, watching Isidro as he spoke slowly and clearly into the phone. It sounded like he was trying to speak over the person on the other end of the line. Kurt's eyes narrowed momentarily.

"Can you understand any of that?" Ororo asked quietly.

He nodded. "I know some Spanish, though it is not so good as my English or French. He is trying to tell his mother he is safe."

Only recently had Kurt gone back to his teaching duties after a week of recovery. He wasn't quite up to full strength yet, but he had the energy to do an hour of class each day, and an extra half hour with Regis in the evening. Ororo glanced at him and smiled. Not only was he wearing the patchwork denim vest and tie-dye sweats the children had made for him, he had also found a way to wear every single one of those hemp and bead friendship bracelets. He strung them into one long strand, then twined it around his tail between the spade and the set of "rings". It actually looked rather nice.

Isidro sighed as he hung up the phone, then sat heavily in the nearby chair, his hands in his hair. "God, I don't believe it. I just don't believe it."

"What happened Isidro?" Ororo asked, walking toward him. "The last time you called home, everything seemed all right. Are they being harassed?"

Isidro shook his head. "The FBI found what was left of my buddies from work. All they could get were finger bones and a few teeth. Some fuck fed them through a wood chipper." He took another breath to steady himself. "They had to do DNA matching to get anywhere. It took them this long to get the results back. Jesus, they're all dead." He dropped his hands and looked away, out through a window, his eyes moist. "I kind of thought they would have been killed … but Jesus … a _wood chipper_." He wiped his eyes quickly. "They want to talk to me real bad. I don't know what I'll tell them. It's a capital murder investigation now. They're gonna want to know where I've been for the past month."

"Perhaps Doctor Hank or Professor Xavier can help with that," Kurt suggested as he moved a bit closer. "They deal with the government often."

Isidro nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll do that." He never once looked them in the eye as he left the room. "A fucking _wood chipper_…."

He passed by Logan, who stopped and watched him as he went.

"His buddies wound up in a wood chipper, huh?" Logan asked quietly as he joined Ororo and Kurt. Kurt nodded, and Logan went on, "Yeah, I was afraid of that. It's a great way to make bodies disappear. It's a good thing they were sloppy. They should've run everything through twice to make sure."

Kurt gave Logan a look of such shock and revulsion that Ororo wondered if he was going to teleport away. "How can you even _think_ of such things?"

"Don't ask me that unless you really want to hear the answer, elf," Logan replied, moving off.

Kurt and Ororo just stood there for a few seconds, watching after Logan long after he left the area. Eventually, Ororo looked back down and motioned to Kurt's adorned appendage.

"I love what you've done with your tail," she said.

That seemed to snap Kurt out of his startled reverie. He looked back down at his tail and raised it a little.

"You like it?" he asked. "I thought it would be different. I will have to rethink it when I start doing more activity, though. It is not so comfortable to grab things with the beads in the way."

"It's beautiful. In the future maybe you could twine the beads further up your tail."

They heard someone knocking on the front door several rooms over. _Odd_, Ororo thought. _We don't have any visitors scheduled for today._

She was about to go to answer the door when she heard it open.

"We need to speak with Professor Xavier, _now_," said a woman's voice.

"He's teachin' a class," Logan's voice responded. "Is he expecting you two?"

The next voice belonged to a man. "He might be by this point. Could you tell him that the Brandons need to speak with him? It's rather important."

The man was much calmer, and much less rude, than the woman. Quick footsteps echoed down the halls, growing closer. From the sounds, it was a woman in high heels walking so swiftly. She must have shoved by Logan to get inside. A white-hot fist clenched around Kurt's heart and did its level best to yank it out of his ribcage. Those were Regis' parents, and at least one of them was angry. Dear God, what would they think if they just bumped into him? What if they realized who had been teaching their son? What would they do? A look of pure terror flooded his features, and he was gone before Ororo could say a single word. Two seconds later, Mrs. Brandon strode into their hallway.

Ororo had seen Mrs. Brandon several times before. Both she and her husband would pick up and drop off Regis when vacations arose. Both of them were also aware that he was a mutant, and knew the other students were likely mutants as well. Like many of those who sent their children to Xavier's Institute, they were wealthy people, well-educated and well-placed in society. The impression Ororo had of Mrs. Brandon was of a polite, somewhat formal woman, one who did not warm to strangers easily. That stood in stark contrast to the seething shrew in business attire that stomped down the carpeted hallway, fists clenched and eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses.

Her husband ran up behind her and grabbed her by the arm, trying to turn her around. "Jennifer, you're not going in with that kind of attitude."

She spun on him, wrenched her arm free, and spat, "And just what gives you the right to tell me what I can and can't feel?"

"And this from the woman who takes pride in keeping her cool!" he snapped back.

She poked him in the chest with a painted fingernail. "Don't push it, mister! Don't even start with me!"

Logan was slowly making his way into the hallway behind them, his face as cold and hard as the metal that lined his bones. Ororo ran to the Brandons, who had clearly forsaken everything else for the sake of their heated argument.

"Have you no sense of propriety?" Ororo hissed at them both. "This is a school! You can be heard throughout the ground floor!"

Mrs. Brandon spun on Ororo and pointed to Logan. "Who the hell is that? He wasn't here in the beginning of the term!"

Ororo thought to herself that this woman had approximately ten seconds before she drenched her with a microstorm.

"Misses Brandon, will you kindly keep your voice down?" Ororo said through clenched teeth.

"He's one of the faculty, Jenny, who the hell do you think he is?" Mr. Brandon told her at the same time. "He could be the grounds keeper for all we know."

"That's right, I don't know!" Mrs. Brandon shrieked. "I want to speak with the headmaster, and I want to speak with my son!"

Make that two seconds….

"Don't you _dare_ involve Regis in this!" Mr. Brandon bellowed, grabbing his wife roughly by the arms and brutally spinning her to face him.

_"Mister and Misses Brandon, that is quite enough!"_ Xavier's voice shouted from the far end of the hall.

He sat there, wheelchair positioned in the center of the archway, as stern as Ororo and Logan had ever seen him. The Brandons ceased their fighting instantly. Mr. Brandon let go of his wife, and both turned to face Xavier.

The professor went on in a more quiet tone of voice, though no less commanding. "If you wish to continue your argument, you will do it outside the confines of this school. If you wish to speak with me, then I suggest you follow me into my office."

He turned his wheelchair about and exited the hallway. Mrs. Brandon briskly strode after him. Mr. Brandon hesitated just long enough to give a mumbled apology to Ororo before following Xavier's lead. Logan walked up next to Ororo and watched the others go.

"All hell breaks loose with Stryker seven months ago and she doesn't say a thing," he growled. "Now she's screaming her lungs out about seeing 'her son.'"

Ororo crossed her arms, her voice icily soft. "Seven months ago I bet they weren't having a divorce."

Logan glanced at her. "You sure?"

"I hope I'm wrong, Logan, but it isn't that hard to figure out."

"It'd explain a few things, wouldn't it?" He put his hands on his hips and shook his head. "Jeez, the poor kid. He's gonna get so screwed by this."

Ororo silently agreed. She didn't even want to think of what a custody battle would be like. Mrs. Brandon was acting very much like the kind of person who could use her son as leverage.

"One of us better warn Regis," Logan continued. "I'll find him. Not that the whole school hasn't heard the two of them by now…."

He stalked off, flexing his fingers as a substitution for extending his claws.

**:**

Kurt laid on top of his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He knew very little about Regis' parents. He had only seen them once from a window during Christmas holiday, and Regis didn't talk about them much. However, from the mood at least one of them seemed to be in that day, he had better stay clear of them while they were at the institute.

Why were they here so unexpectedly? Xavier encouraged all guardians to arrange at least a day in advance for visits. The Brandons arrived so quickly that they nearly caught Kurt off-guard. His heart was still pounding from that. He had very few rules that were not given directly from God, but there was one he had learned to keep the hard way: _never let an outsider see you_. Even more important was _never startle an outsider_. And finally, _never startle an angry outsider_. Rules that safeguarded his life, and had very nearly been broken. The last time any of those rules had been violated, the results had been ... unpleasant.

Kurt rubbed his face with both hands, trying to force the painful memory out of his mind. _You can teleport now_, he reminded himself. _There's no way anyone can tie you up like that ever again. You're not a child anymore. You're not alone. Just calm down. Calm down...._

He sat up and perched on the edge of his mattress. With his right hand, he picked his rosary up off of the bedside table, from where he placed it for safekeeping during his gym classes. He bowed his head and ran his fingers over the beads as he prayed, trying to quiet his beating heart.

It was so troubling, the way old fears lay so close to the surface....

He heard a buzzing sound, almost electronic in nature, accompanied by a blur of light in the corner of his room. He spun around in time to see Regis materialize several feet up, close to the ceiling, and fall clumsily to the floor.

"Regis?" Kurt asked quickly. "What are you doing here?"

"Mister Wagner, can I hide out in your room for a while?" Regis asked timidly as he stood up. "My mom and dad are here, and they're screaming at each other, and I really don't wanna talk to them right now, okay?"

"Do you have any idea why they are so angry?" Kurt asked him.

Regis shrugged, hands jammed in his pockets, his feet shuffling nervously. "Idunno."

_That means 'I don't know, but it must be my fault,' _Kurt thought_. When parents fight, it is always the children who are hurt. And if I do not give him permission to stay, he will hide somewhere else, and we will have to search for him later._ Aloud, he said, "Of course you can stay, Regis. Let Herr Professor speak with your parents. He knows what to do."

Regis nodded, wincing as he limped over to Kurt's side. Though he remembered to materialize high up to avoid possible objects on the floor, he had not landed correctly. He knew better than to let his legs fold up under him like that; Kurt had seen to it. Whatever was happening with his parents, it had him so rattled that he had forgotten half his training. He would have to work harder on that. It should all be instinctive.

"Did you twist something?" Kurt asked, moving aside to make room for Regis to sit.

"No, I just bumped my knee," he said, still wincing. "I'll be okay."

"Do you need ice?"

Regis shook his head and looked back at Kurt with eyes that said _please don't leave me_. He had never seen the poor boy so upset. Kurt sighed and put his left arm around Regis' slender shoulders.

"It would seem we are both outcasts for now."

**:**

Ororo had just dismissed her physics class when Scott showed up by the doorway, waiting for the flood of students to subside. She went to him instead of letting him come to her.

"How's it going?" she asked softly.

"Not good," he answered. "This is just the opening strike of a custody battle. I can smell it. She's demanding Regis leave the school and come to Colorado with her, and the father is insisting he stay. The professor's trying to mediate, but the damn woman's not being even remotely reasonable."

Ororo pinched her nasal ridge. "Great."

"It gets worse," Scott warned her. "She's insisting on seeing Regis and she's not about to take 'no' for an answer. She's also demanding to see his 'mentor.'"

"We're not going to let her do _that_, are we?"

"Not if I can help it. She's got the right to see her son, but she can't force Kurt to see her. The problem is I think they're together somewhere."

"You 'think?'"

"When Regis heard the screamfest in the hallway, he teleported out of my classroom. The poor guy was mortified."

"Have you checked with Logan? He said he was going to find him."

Scott snorted. "Logan's being quiet about it. Says he knows where he is, says I know, too. I take that to mean Regis is probably hiding out in Kurt's room."

"And if she goes looking for her son, she'll probably find Kurt as well," Ororo finished.

Scott nodded, mouth set in a grim line. "That's about the size of it."

"Well, it looks like Regis is off practicing somewhere on the grounds, and Kurt is out on errands," she stated, lifting her chin. "If she had let us know she was coming, maybe we could have made sure all the teachers were here for her perusal. Maybe this'll teach her this isn't her private house."

Scott nodded once again and looked over Ororo's shoulder, off in the general direction of Professor Xavier's office. "That's what the professor said, too, though a bit more politely. It's a shame none of us know where Kurt went, isn't it?"

"Just an absolute shame," Ororo agreed. "Are they still hacking away at the professor?"

At that point, both of them heard the distinctive clicking of high heels on the marble floors. Scott caught a brief glimpse of Mrs. Brandon walking briskly to the back of the mansion, and then heard the rear doors open and shut.

"I don't think so," Scott muttered warily.

TBC…


	2. Explosion

**Mentors, part 2**

Jennifer Brandon sat alone outside. Around her recess went on. Some of the kids played basketball. A group of girls gathered in a clique to chat. Many of them gave Jennifer thinly-veiled looks of distaste. They must have heard her little "discussion" with her overbearing, soon-to-be-ex-husband Louis. None of this was going as she planned. Bad enough that this "Kurt" Regis wrote so glowingly about had gone missing for the day, but now Regis was gone as well. How could that idiot headmaster be so blasé about this? A grown man and a young boy, both missing? Didn't he realize how this looked?

It was her husband's idea to drop Regis off at "mutant high". He was such a coward, hiding behind that "he needs to be instructed" excuse. He just didn't want to be bothered caring for their boy. That way he could go on those business trips without hiring a Goddamned baby-sitter. This place was a mistake. She was getting him out of here, if she had to drag Regis into court to do it.

The problem was that she had to get to Regis first, and nobody here was being all that helpful. Louis was being obstructive, the teachers were frosty at best, and that Logan character should be in prison. The students gave her an "I don't know where he is" song and dance. One of the younger ones actually came out and said "professor says we're not supposed to talk to you." This was illegal. They couldn't keep her away from her son like this.

All right, if they were going to play dirty, she would too. This was her son. Everything was fair. She put on her best worried and loving face and started slowly walking around the grounds. The news couldn't have spread to every single child in this school, and one of these uninformed students was sure to notice this. One of them was sure to ask her what was wrong.

Her efforts bore fruit within a few minutes. As she was walking by the start of a vegetable garden, a swarthy young boy looked up from his duties.

"Are you looking for someone, ma'am?" he asked.

Bingo. She turned to look at him. He was on his knees between rows of young sprouts, spreading some kind of mulch around. He absently touched one of the sprouts, and the leaves pulsed a deeper green and grew a good quarter-inch all the way around. Gee, guess what his ability must have been.

"I'm looking for Regis," Mrs. Brandon said politely, putting just the right dash of worry in her voice. "Nobody seems to know where he is."

The boy stood up and looked about. "I'm not sure where he is, either. I've been out here all morning. Maybe Kurt knows."

_Of course he knows, dammit! The two of them are together somewhere doing God-knows-what! _ Aloud, she said, thoughtfully, "Kurt. Isn't that Regis' private teacher? He's told me so much about him, and I'd really like to meet him, if I could."

The boy blinked. "Really? Regis described him and everything?"

In truth, Regis had only said the man was German with short black hair, that he was a gymnast, and he was helping him with teleporting. She wouldn't know what this guy looked like if he walked right by her. She hoped he hadn't at some point. That would blow her cover with this kid. She took a chance.

"He described him right down to his toenails," she said, smiling gently. "I'd like to thank him for the wonderful job he's been doing. Regis seems so fond of him."

"Yeah, they're really close," the boy agreed.

Inside, Jennifer squirmed. Outside, she kept that insipid smile firmly plastered in place.

"You might try going to see Kurt," the boy continued. "He's probably in his room right now. I can take you there if you like."

That was the _last_ thing she wanted. The rest of the little hoodlums would surely warn him off. "Oh, no, don't trouble yourself. Just tell me where his room is. I'm sure I can find it myself."

:

Jaideep gave the woman directions and watched her go. She strode back to the mansion quickly. Weird; he didn't think that a non-mutant would be that keen to see Kurt when they knew what he looked like. She must be really understanding. He went back to his work. The new cocoa husk mulch held a lot of promise for weed suppression and water retention.

"Hey, Jay, what was that about?"

He looked up at the sound of Artie's voice. "Oh, that was Regis' mom. She was looking for him."

Artie looked horrified. "You didn't tell her where he was, did you?"

Jaideep answered slowly, a sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. "Why?"

"Because she's a real b-i-t-c-h, Jay!" Artie exploded, spreading his arms wide. "The prof said we shouldn't tell her anything, remember?"

Jaideep shook his head and stood up. "I've been out here all morning. I haven't seen Professor Xavier since breakfast."

"Jay, what'd you tell her?" Artie shouted.

"I-I told her to talk to Kurt--"

_"Are you nuts? You sent a _normal_ to see Kurt?"_

"She said Regis told her all about him!"

"She's _lying_! Regis never told anyone what Kurt looks like! They all still think he tried to kill the President!"

Jaideep turned almost as pale as Artie. "Oh my God…."

:

Jennifer strode up the third flight of stairs. According to the little gardener, Kurt's bedroom was down at the end of the corridor, to the right. She walked down the carpeted hallway, the sounds of her footsteps conveniently muffled. Good. If she was right, and they were in that man's room together, she wasn't about to give him any warning time to dispose of any evidence. If she was right, Xavier's school was going down. That publicity nightmare last year would be nothing compared to a pedophilia scandal. She'd be sure to get custody of Regis.

She heard footsteps running up the stairs as she closed in on Kurt's room. Dammit, someone must have noticed. They weren't stopping her. She bolted to the door and opened it. Then she screamed.

Scott tore up the last flight of stairs as Mrs. Brandon let out a horrified screech. She did it. That arrogant, manipulative cow actually did it. She'd busted into Kurt's room. Somewhere behind him, Jaideep and Artie tried to keep up, and Mr. Brandon was passing them by. Scott heard more and more people coming up the stairs as news of this spread through the school. As he leapt out into the corridor, Ororo joined him. She must have flown in through one of the adjacent rooms' open windows.

_"Get away from him!" _Mrs. Brandon was screaming._ "You get away from him!"_

"_Frau Brandon_--" Kurt's trembling voice pleaded.

"Mom! Let go of me!" Regis shouted.

It was all happening at once. Scott and Ororo got to the doorway at the same time. Kurt was moving back from the raging woman, a nervous hand up as if to ward her off. Mrs. Brandon was holding Regis by the elbow so hard that his skin was turning white around her fingertips. The boy was trying to free himself, and finally teleported out of her grasp, reappearing in front of Kurt.

"Regis!" she shrieked. "You come here right now! Get away from that monster!"

Ororo stood between mother and son, half an inch from Mrs. Brandon's face. "You've got two seconds to get out of this room!"

"And you've got _one second_ to give me back my son before I call the police!" Mrs. Brandon shouted back. "How dare you keep that _thing_ in here? That's the Oval Office Assassin!"

Thunder rumbled above and the wind picked up. Kurt was desperate to leave. There was an angry, startled outsider in his room, screaming about her son. Hatred and protective zeal; the most dangerous combination he could imagine. There were plenty of places he could teleport to where this harpy would never find him. But he couldn't just leave Regis, and he couldn't take him along without creating more trouble. He was trapped. He caught movement behind the two arguing women, and saw that Mr. Brandon had joined Scott in the doorway. The man's eyes and mouth opened wide as he saw Kurt.

_Dear, merciful God, this can't be happening_, Kurt thought, frozen in abject terror. _Make it all go away. Strike me dead now. Just stop this. Don't make me go through this again. Don't make Regis go through this with me._

"Dad, she's trying to take me away!" Regis pleaded.

Mrs. Brandon whirled on her spouse, eyes wild. "You knew this! You knew what was going on! You knew what this thing was doing to him!"

"He's not _doing_ anything to me!" Regis screamed at the top of his lungs. "And he's _not_ a thing! Stop calling him that! He's a man! He's my teacher!"

Mrs. Brandon didn't seem to have heard her son, or she simply didn't care. "This is grounds for divorce if I ever heard one! He's coming straight home with me right now!"

Mr. Brandon snapped out of whatever daze he was in and glared at his wife. "Look, I didn't know who this Kurt was any more than you did, but if you think you're just waltzing out of here with Regis tucked under your arm--"

"Do you want this to end up in divorce court?" she shrieked. "I'll do it, Louis! And then you'll have to explain all sorts of uncomfortable things!"

Mr. Brandon turned scarlet right up to the tips of his ears. "Do you realize what the courts will do when they realize that our son is a mutant? Do you realize what the **media** will do to him?"

"Then you'd better think twice about keeping him away from me, shouldn't you?"

Something burned behind Kurt's eyes. His voice grew harsh, inhuman, even demonic, with his anger.

"How dare you?" he hissed. When the woman turned on him, he roared, _"How dare you attack your husband through your son!"_

His bared his fangs, his arm protectively reaching across Regis' chest, holding the boy close. His tail lashed so viciously that it actually broke one of the heavy wooden knobs off of his bed. The piece went flying across the room, ricocheting off the wall and bouncing twice on the floor before rolling to a stop, leaving dents wherever it struck.

The woman stared at Kurt with eyes wide as dinner plates. The color seemed to pale in her iris, from blue to almost steely gray. Color drained away from her face as well. She backed up two steps toward the door, eyes fixed on the violent creature in front of her. Suddenly she spun and bolted through the doorway. When Mr. Brandon tried to stop her, she punched him in the jaw. Hard. She actually managed to knock the man down. Whether from physical fitness or adrenaline, that little woman had a lot of strength in her. She scattered the waiting kids as she fled down the stairs. Scott picked Mr. Brandon up off of the floor and made ready to chase after her.

"No, let her go," Mr. Brandon said. "Let her run off and hide somewhere. I should've known she'd try this ... I should've known."

"Has she done this before?" Ororo asked.

Mr. Brandon's eyes flicked to his son, and to Kurt, for a moment before returning to Ororo. "I'll explain later." He dabbed at his split lip and examined the blood on his finger. "Damn. She really got me, this time. I hope she broke her knuckles."

A car started outside, just audible over the gale-force winds. Scott knew the engines of all the institute's cars, and it wasn't one of theirs. Mr. Brandon raced to the picture window and looked down as the car peeled rubber on the asphalt. Ororo and Scott were there beside him instantly, just in time to catch Mrs. Brandon speeding away, clumsily placing her cell phone's handsfree set on her head with one hand and steering with the other.

"I don't believe it!" Mr. Brandon shouted. "She took off with the rental!" He whipped his cell phone out of his suit pocket and started hitting numbers, grumbling, "This just became a race." There was stunned silence in the hallway as Mr. Brandon stared at the ceiling, waiting for someone to pick up on the other end. "Yes, this is Louis James Brandon, and I need to freeze the joint account I share with my wife...." He closed his eyes and momentarily clenched his teeth. "I don't care if she's on the other line, I need that account frozen _right now_, or she'll drain it dry... One word, buddy: divorce... Yes, I thought you would...."

Scott watched the outside, though the car was gone from view, listening to the over-revved engine as it faded away. He expected that this man was going to have to call every single bank, credit union, credit card, and brokerage firm he dealt with, and then probably his lawyer. A long and involved process, and, unfortunately, one that would have to be done right now. Ororo looked back to Kurt's bedroom, where Artie and Jaideep had pushed their way in.

"Regis, I'm so sorry," Jaideep apologized. "If I knew what was going on, I would never have told her where Kurt was."

"She lied to you, right?" Regis asked sullenly.

"Yeah. She said you told her all about Kurt."

"It's okay. Sometime she does that when she wants something bad enough. She's real good at it."

Ororo made a subtle motion to Scott that she was going back to Regis. Scott just as subtly nodded and shifted his stance to indicate he was staying by Mr. Brandon.

"Jeez, your mom _lies_ to you?" Artie asked, shocked.

"No, just to strangers," Regis answered. "I guess she figures it's okay if she doesn't know you or something."

Ororo reentered Kurt's room. Regis was sitting miserably by Kurt, leaning into his shoulder and staring down at the floor. Kurt was still hugging Regis to his side, though no longer so protectively.

A tear ran down Regis' cheek; he seemed unaware of it. "I hate her. I wish she was dead."

"I think that is not being honest to yourself," Kurt said softly. "I think it is more likely you love her and you wish she would stop hurting you."

Ororo bent down to Artie and Jaideep, her fingertips on their shoulders and her voice very quiet. "Guys, why don't you give Regis some space for now? And tell the other kids to give him space, too. We'll let you know how everything goes in a little while. All right?"

"We'll be downstairs, okay, Regis?" Artie said as he and Jaideep left the room. As they reached the corridor, Ororo heard Artie's voice again. "C'mon, guys, Ms. Munroe says we should go."

Footsteps shuffled off and thundered down the wooden stairs. The wind stopped blowing outside, though it would be a while longer before the skies cleared. Regis leaned forward, gently breaking free of Kurt's hold. He dropped his glasses to the floor and put his head in his hands. His shoulders jerked silently. Ororo sat to the other side of him and put her hand on his back, mentally running through all of the horrible things she wished she had done to his mother. This wasn't just Mrs. Brandon's son. Every child in this mansion belonged to Storm. She was their Sekhmet, their lioness, their protector. If Kurt hadn't scared the hag away, Ororo would have heaved her down the stairs.

"Kurt," the professor's voice called softly from the hallway.

Kurt looked up to see Xavier gesturing for him to come closer. He reluctantly left Regis' side. Ororo took over, pulling Regis close. Kurt got to the doorway and hesitated. He could vaguely hear Mr. Brandon talking on his cell phone halfway down the long hall, right next to the picture window.

"He wants to speak with you, Kurt," Xavier told him.

Kurt's heart leapt into his mouth yet again. "Professor, do you think that's a good idea? Haven't I caused enough trouble today?"

Xavier sighed and looked back down the corridor. Now that Kurt was at the doorway, he could hear Mr. Brandon's words more clearly.

"…Yeah, that's right … Probably … Then hire a moving company to pack her stuff up and leave it outside, I don't care. She's not getting into the house…."

"This has been brewing since before Regis came to the school," Xavier explained quietly. "I'm not quite sure what brought it to so violent a head, but it wasn't you. Once Mister Brandon finishes up with his immediate business, he has made it clear he wishes to speak with you personally. I do not believe his intentions are hostile."

Kurt looked down at his attire. He had just finished his class when the Brandons showed up. He was still clad in sweat pants, vest, and nothing else. Mr. Brandon was in a designer three-piece suit which probably cost a month's worth of Kurt's salary. The disparity between them couldn't have been more extreme.

"Should I not change?" he asked.

"Trust me, Kurt; there is nothing in your possession that could make Mister Brandon see you in a different light than you are right now."

He backed his wheelchair up, clearly implying that Kurt should step out into the hallway. Kurt hunched over as he closed the door behind him, the tip of his tail brushing the floor and shaking nervously. He fell into a crouch against the wall.

Louis glanced at Scott and nodded quickly, making a casual wave of dismissal as he spoke on the cell phone. Scott nodded and walked back to join the professor and Kurt.

To Scott, the change in Kurt was like the difference between night and day. When Kurt was with the students, when he felt secure with his friends, he was outgoing and gregarious. He stood up straight. He joked. He smiled without fear. Dump one unexpected newcomer into the equation, and their lively entertainer retreated into a shell and slammed it tight. Even now he was curled up in a ball on the floor, looking down at the rug in front of him with the dull fear of a condemned man.

Part of Scott wanted to tell Kurt to stand up straight. Stop hiding. Stop running from conflict. Stop whimpering in the corner like a whipped puppy. Look people in the eye, dammit. But the other part of Scott kept hearing Mrs. Brandon's horrified screams. Kurt's infuriatingly submissive posture was a hard-learned, and likely vital, defensive measure. If he ever fought back, it could turn a personal fight into a mob situation once his attacker called on their friends. Skulking and running from conflict kept him alive. They were probably the _only_ things that had kept him alive.

Kurt glanced up at Scott. "Is it true that half of all American marriages … end up like this?"

Scott looked back at Mr. Brandon before returning his gaze to Kurt. "Half of them end up in divorce, but not like this. This is especially nasty."

Mr. Brandon flipped his cell phone closed and turned his attention to the trio at the end of the hall. He looked at Kurt, took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and strode to him. When it became clear that Kurt wasn't going to stand up, Scott nudged him into doing so. The demonic man finally stood, though he still stayed in that hunched over stoop.

"Jennifer'll be calling me when she realizes she can't get into anything," Mr. Brandon stated, looking at all three men. "I'll have to take that call." He looked at Kurt specifically. "Until then, I want to speak with you, Mister Wagner. Is there somewhere private we can go?"

"We have offices downstairs, or you can use one of the unoccupied rooms in this wing," Xavier suggested.

"I'll take the latter. Just point me to one."

Xavier looked at Kurt, waiting. A second later, Kurt realized what he was being silently commanded to do. He swallowed and nodded, forcing himself to look up in Mr. Brandon's eyes.

"This way, Mister Brandon," Kurt said softly, leading him to a guest room across the hall.

To be concluded…..


	3. Shrapnel

**Mentors, part 3**

The room Kurt chose was relatively small, equipped with the necessities and little more. A bed, one unadorned wooden chair, one table. Kurt flicked on the light as they entered. Mr. Brandon tossed his blazer on the head of the bed and flopped onto the mattress corner directly opposite. Kurt remained where he was until Mr. Brandon impatiently gestured to the remaining chair.

"I won't bite," the man said. "Unlike Jennifer."

Kurt took pains to sit correctly in the chair, instead of turning it around or perching on the edge. Mr. Brandon opened his mouth to speak, and his cell phone rang. Mildly impressed, he looked back at his blazer and pulled the device from an inside pocket.

"That was fast," he muttered, looking at the return number.

No sooner than he had opened the line than Mrs. Brandon's voice shrieked loudly enough for Kurt to hear. _"You son of a bitch! Just what the hell do you think you're doing!"_

Brandon punched the volume control, lowering his wife's voice to a tolerable, private level, then placed the phone to his ear. He waited for several seconds, eyes rolled, apparently listening to her rant.

"All I did was freeze the common funds, Jenny," he said calmly. "I can't get at it, you can't get at it. You've still got full access to yours. It's completely legal, and you know it." Pause. His eyes narrowed, and his voice grew dangerously soft. "Don't do that. You won't like the results." Pause. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe telling the SEC about some of those questionable trades you've been doing for the past few years." Pause. "Dead serious, woman. You drag Regis into court, and I'll make sure you go to jail first." He gave a sneering smile. "Oh, and who are the police going to believe? A hysterical woman who just physically assaulted her husband, or the headmaster? Besides, he doesn't have a warrant out for his arrest anymore. That was dropped last year. It was in all the papers." Pause. "No, this is a civil case. You know it, I know it." Pause. He rubbed his temple. "Well, if you're so sure, why don't you try it? See how far you'll get? I've already contacted Channels, Meredith, and Buldin. They're filing it all now as we speak. You've wanted one for years, and now you're going to get it." Pause. "Good luck, bitch, they're changing the locks."

He terminated the call, switched the phone off with a flick of his thumb, then casually tossed it on his blazer again. He ran a hand through his hair and looked off at a wall.

"Worst day of my God damned life," he mumbled. The weary man looked back at Kurt. "You mind if I call you Kurt?"

"Not at all," Kurt responded.

He sighed. "Kurt, I'm going to lay it on the line. I'm a piss-poor father. I know it. I keep meaning to spend more time with my son, and it keeps getting waylaid by some emergency or another. At least I admit it. Jenny seems to think she's the best thing since June Cleaver, and she's home less often than I am.

"Regis is a smart kid. He knew we were having troubles before we sent him to this institute, but he kept holding out hope that we'd fix things up. I thought Xavier's school could help all three of us that way. Regis would get the support and mentorship he needed, and Jenny and I could spend some time together and work things out without worrying about him. It didn't turn out that way, though, and I'll be God damned if I'm going to let her drag Regis into a custody battle."

Mr. Brandon's blaspheming was starting to get on Kurt's nerves, but he suppressed his discomfort. He stayed where he was, frozen to his chair, his tail wrapped around the back leg so tightly that it was starting to lose circulation. Any wrong move on his part, and this whole situation could explode. He couldn't do that to Regis.

"The thing is, Regis has really bonded to you," Mr. Brandon went on. "He talked about you over the holidays. He's never had that kind of a bond with any of his teachers." He gave a wry, sad smile. "I know he never had it with me. Jenny's been getting more and more jealous of it. She kept dropping hints that she thought it wasn't healthy for a grown man to be so 'close' to a young boy."

Kurt sucked in a startled breath. "Surely she was not suggesting…."

Louis' face screwed up in an expression of utter contempt. "She was suggesting it in spades. She told me all the way to the school that if she found anything screwy she was dragging Regis away right then and there. If you hadn't panicked her, she would have invented a huge case that you and Regis were … well, I don't think I need to go all the way there, do I? She made you into a demon before she got here."

"How could she think I would do such a horrible thing?" Kurt asked, appalled. "How could she think Herr Professor would let that happen?"

"It's either that or feel like she's been replaced. Guess which one's easier?"

Kurt sighed and looked down and away. "I have been used as a scapegoat before. But never has anyone accused me of something so… awful." He looked back at Louis. "Mister Brandon, please believe me. I never meant to put myself between you and your son. I would not think I _could_ do that."

"You leave that much space between the two, and something's bound to step in at some point."

Kurt was growing alarmed. Not for himself, now, but for Mr. Brandon. "Mister Brandon, your son loves you dearly! I am no substitute for a boy's father!"

"Oh, yes you are, Kurt. If you weren't, you couldn't take him under your wing. It's part of the job. He needs a father here, whether it's you or one of the other instructors." He stood up and paced a little, clearly planning his next words. He stopped abruptly and looked down at Kurt. "What happened in the Oval Office, Mister Wagner? I know the President let you go, but he didn't explain anything."

Kurt closed his eyes. "Do you want the short version or the long version?"

"Let's start with the short version."

Even recalling the short version brought the taste of bile into Kurt's throat. He was not aware of the fact that his hand reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. "I came to America to visit and was walking after dark when soldiers took me. They sprayed me with mace and beat me unconscious. The next thing I know, I am on the President's desk with a knife in my hand, and my arm is bleeding. I would not remember anything between for months."

"Did this have anything to do with the 'world migraine' two days later?"

"Yes. The same man whose soldiers took me made the machine to cause the 'world migraine.' He is dead now. I was told that he was the first victim of the machine."

He knew that last part wasn't entirely correct. Stryker had drowned, along with the entire Alkali Lake basin. But if Stryker had created the base to house his twisted version of Cerebro, and its dam broke, then perhaps there was some truth to the statement. Mr. Brandon nodded thoughtfully.

"Something tells me you don't like giving the long version of that," he said.

Kurt shook his head. "No, I don't. I have bad dreams about it even now."

"Does Regis know?"

"He knows the short version. He does not need all the details to keep him up at night, too."

"Yeah, he'll have enough on his mind from here on in," Louis muttered. He smiled a little again. "I've got this dream, Kurt. When I found out what Regis could do, and when Xavier said he could get training, I started thinking. I've been seeing my son as a government courier. Someone who could never be intercepted or confined. Or maybe a rescue worker, who could get people to the hospital faster than any helicopter. I wanted him to use this gift. I wanted him to be successful." His smile faded. "Now I'll just settle for him surviving past his teens."

"That is my duty, Mister Brandon. I am to teach him about teleporting. If necessary, I am to protect him as well."

"Yeah, I noticed." He laughed once. "Guess I should feel sorry for any poor SOB who tries anything with him.

"I don't know exactly what's going to happen from here, Kurt. Jennifer could call the cops, but then she'd have to explain hitting me. I guess we'll have to keep an eye on what her lawyers file, to make sure she doesn't drop the 'M' word anywhere."

"Were you serious about turning her in for illegal trading?" Kurt asked.

Louis sighed. "I've got enough evidence to put her in the slammer for years, let alone strip her broker's license."

Kurt did not ask further. He knew it would be sure to take him someplace he did not want to go.

"My wife is emotionally unstable, Mister Wagner," the man said, in a formal tone. "I don't think it will be safe for her to see my son or you. She might try to attack you as she did me. Therefore, you have my expressed permission to remove yourself and my son from her presence at any time. I'll speak with Professor Xavier on this, to work everything out." His voice changed a bit, back to the "concerned casual" of before. "In the meantime, if you don't mind, I think I need to speak with my son."

Kurt stood up. "Of course, sir. Do you wish for me to bring him here?"

"Well … if you don't mind, he's already in your room…."

Kurt gave a slight, formal bow. "It is no trouble, sir. Take all the time you wish."

A few moments later, Kurt and Ororo stood outside of his room, quietly closing the door behind them. Both of them felt utterly, completely drained. She looked at him, noting the way his tail dragged on the rug, barely twitching.

"You look beat," she said.

Kurt nodded. "I think I will rest in one of the other rooms, as mine is occupied."

"Why not mine?"

He turned to her. "Your room?"

"It's a lot more comfortable than one of the spare ones here." She took his arm. "Come on, this way. It's not too far."

What made Ororo's room so very comfortable, in Kurt's opinion, was the abundance of greenery. Plants hung from the walls and rafters, springing up just about everywhere. It was a forest of life, warm, steaming like a jungle, granting spots of privacy all around what would otherwise be an open room.

She led him to her bed, which was a futon rather than the standard mattress in the other rooms. "Rest here for a moment. It's time for me to feed the room."

He reclined on the bed as Ororo brought up a warm, localized mist. Soon each plant was gently dripping with moisture.

For a moment, her back was to him as she worked. "What did Mister Brandon talk to you about? Or is that too private?"

"Not all of it was so private," Kurt answered. "He will be speaking with Herr Professor on many points, I'm sure. He believes that his wife has grown... jealous of me. She had convinced herself that I did not have Regis' best interests at heart, and that she had to take him back."

She tensed, but did not yet turn around. "Is she serious about a custody battle in the courts?"

"Yes, but Mister Brandon seems to have a plan to stop her." His voice softened. "I do not much care for his plan."

She turned swiftly. "Why? What is he going to do?"

"He is threatening to turn her into the police for illegal stock trading. He will not if she does not bring Regis into the fight."

Ororo went back and sat by his side. "He's blackmailing her?" Kurt closed his eyes and nodded. She continued, "Does he have any real proof?"

Kurt sighed and looked up at the rafters. "Ororo, he says he has enough to send her to jail for years. He must have been gathering evidence in secret for this for a long time. Knowing her crimes, he has kept quiet to use them for his own gains. He has not tried to make her stop, he has not called the police, he has kept silent and let her crimes continue. And if she does not touch Regis, he will let her crimes continue without interfering." He paused. "It is appalling on both sides."

It was so easy for Ororo to forget where Kurt came from, his comparatively sheltered life. He had never seen such manipulations on anything but the silver screen, and perhaps not even then. The chances were he had also never seen a divorce, let alone one so vicious.

"Sounds like both of them have egos the size of Westchester County," Ororo noted.

Kurt nodded. "The man, at least, is honest about it. He is saddened that he feels Regis is closer to me than to him and blames himself for it. The woman seems to think I am doing--...." He cut off that sentence and chose the next one carefully. "She does not want to think she could be less than perfect, so I must be worse than evil."

Ororo felt a stab of anger towards the woman. It wasn't very difficult to see what Kurt was trying not to say. How _dare_ she accuse him of such an atrocity?

"Looks like Regis isn't the only one caught in this battle," Ororo told him, rubbing his chest with her fingers.

He caught her hand gently in his and held it close. He was still not looking directly at her.

"It's horrible to see human nature at its worst this way," she agreed. "I've witnessed it too many times to count. Both of them want to think they're acting in their son's best interests, but their egos keep getting in the way. It could be that Mister Brandon just recently went digging and found evidence against her in the past month or so. We should give him the benefit of the doubt in this. His actions may be the only thing that can put the brakes on his wife."

"Two wrongs do not make a right, Ororo."

"And one does?" He did not answer immediately. She continued, "Kurt, what could you do to change this? What ability to do you have to affect the outcome in any way besides making it worse? I'll save you the trouble of thinking: you don't. This is out of our hands. The thundering egos are at war, and the only thing we can do is shelter Regis and ourselves as best we can. He's going to need all of us more than ever in the coming months."

"I know," he whispered.

She nudged off her shoes and climbed into bed beside him, still fully clothed. He pulled her close, both arms around her, and did not let go.

**:**

Mr. Brandon stayed as a guest of the institute for the next two days. He spent much of that time on his cell phone or with Professor Xavier. The rest he spent with his son, including when Scott lent him them of the institute's cars to go to the city for a few hours.

Mrs. Brandon tried to call Regis twice. The first time Xavier firmly warned her off. The second time, Xavier deliberately handed the phone to Kurt, who got out three words before she hung up on him. Only her lawyer called after that. He made veiled threats about bringing the police, then the FBI, and then the media, for an investigation of the school. By the third day, the lawyer had stopped calling and no one had dropped by for an unannounced visit.

The evening of the third day, Scott drove Mr. Brandon to the airport. The rest of the faculty gathered in Xavier's office for any news on the up-and-coming battle.

"Regis is staying for the foreseeable future," Xavier told them. "Mister and Misses Brandon seem to have come to a tentative agreement."

They all looked at each other uncomfortably. By this point, everyone in the room knew about the Brandons' mutual extortion efforts. So far, Mr. Brandon seemed to have the upper hand.

"What does Regis know about the matter?" Kurt asked.

"He only knows that he can stay here as long as he wants, and that his father is taking care of things," Xavier replied.

Kurt nodded. It was best for things to remain that way.

"Is Misses Brandon making good on her threat to bring more attention to the school?" Ororo asked.

"So far, no," Xavier answered. "Should the situation change, I will be sure to inform you, but I think that was all bluster on her part."

"Yeah, now that she's had a couple of days, maybe she's thinking about how hard her career would crash if the world figured out she had a mutant for a son," Logan added with a sneer.

"In any case," Xavier said, "the best thing we can do, for Regis and for the rest of the students, is to get back to our usual schedule."

Kurt looked at the ornate clock on the wall. "If so, I should probably be going, yes? Or does Regis still have his practice with me tonight?"

Xavier nodded. "He does. He will be there."

Kurt excused himself and teleported out of the room, reappearing on the ceiling of the corridor right outside of the danger room. He heard a voice gasp underneath him; Regis had been waiting. Kurt dropped down next to him. There was something different about the boy tonight....

"Regis, where are your glasses?" Kurt asked, pointing to his own eyes.

Regis grinned at him. It was the first genuine smile he had given for the past three days. "Dad said I was ready for contacts. We went and picked them up the other day. What do you think?"

Kurt put his palm over Regis' face, then turned the boy's grinning head this way and that, a bit of roughhousing before practice. "I'll have to get used to that look. Now I have nothing to steal off of your face."

The boy's mind was not entirely on his practice. He made many mistakes. Kurt was tempted to cut the lesson short, to give Regis more time to recuperate from the past week's events, but he would surely see that as a mark of Kurt's disapproval. The boy needed confidence now; he needed distraction, rather than to be reminded over and over. And so, mistakes or not, Kurt not only kept him for the entire practice, he had it go for an extra half hour.

"I'm sorry, Mister Wagner, I really sucked today," Regis apologized as Kurt shut the room down. "I'll do better next time. We're doing this again tomorrow, right?"

"The same time and place," Kurt said. "And, perhaps, the same obstacle course."

Regis cringed a little as they left the room. Kurt put his hand on his shoulder and gave a brief hug.

"It's all right, Regis," he assured him. "Everyone has a bad day sometimes. You will do better tomorrow."

They walked to the elevator.

"I think dad likes you," Regis started. "We talked about you in the car. He said he was glad there was someone else who could teleport who could teach me." The doors shut in front of them and the room began to rise. "I don't know if I'll ever be as good as you are...."

"I have been doing this for as long as you have been alive, remember?" Kurt scolded. "Do not make those kind of comparisons."

"Anyway, dad asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up, and I wasn't really sure. He talked about using my power as a job. 'Porting back and forth with people or with stuff, you know? I don't think they have jobs like that, yet, do they?"

"Oh, there are people who make a living doing delivering. There's a special name for it that I can't remember right now, but they carry important documents."

"The kind of guys who have briefcases handcuffed to them?"

"Yes, something like that. It's just none of them can teleport, so they always take jets and cars. If we can make the government accept us, I think your power would be very important for that. Your father may be on to something."

The elevator stopped on the second floor. The two of them walked out into the corridor. The sounds of competing music drifted from different, open doorways, mingling with the students' conversations. Regis stopped and looked up at his mentor. He seemed to be trying to remember something. Then his eyes widened with some hidden, sudden knowledge.

"Mister Wagner, I wanted to show you something," he said quickly. "Can you come with me for a minute?"

Kurt gestured for him to lead the way, and Regis ran ahead into his room. As Kurt came to the open doorway, he noticed that Regis' two roommates were absent, probably downstairs playing foosball or watching TV. Most of the students didn't settle into their rooms until nine o'clock or nine-thirty. Kurt waited there, leaning on the doorframe with one hand, as Regis went to his part of the room. Though his back was turned to him, Kurt gathered that he was removing his contacts.

"I wanted to show you these," Regis was saying, slightly distracted by his work. "I got kind of tired of brown eyes, so I wanted to try something different, and they said everyone's doing it and they had a lot of styles. They even had these weird ones with swirls and cat's eyes and everything? One set had the Pittsburgh Steelers on it and their four diamond color symbol thingy, if you looked really close? And there was one set with the American flag, and one with the Dallas Cowboys star, and they were really cool."

"I'm almost afraid to know what you've tried," Kurt said. "Tell me they didn't have any pink bunnies?"

"Ewww, no way. I wouldn't wear contacts with pink bunnies if you paid me."

He finished and straightened up, looking in the mirror one last time. Without turning to face Kurt, he motioned for him to come in.

"C'mon, I want you to see this. This is so cool."

Kurt stood away from the doorway and walked over to Regis' side. He got up to the point where he could see Regis' face and stopped, letting loose a little gasp of surprise. The boy's image in the mirror was made all the more startling next to Kurt's own. The juxtaposition brought forgotten dreams to the forefront of Kurt's mind. Ideas of a family truly his own; of a life that, until recently, he never thought he would have the chance to lead.

The "special contacts" that Regis had chosen were bright yellow.

**_Finis_**


End file.
